


Conjugal

by sorta_sirius_black



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Will, Bottom Will Graham, Bottoming from the Top, Conjugal Visits, Consummation of Marriage, Dark Will, Dark Will Graham, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Marriage, Porn With Plot, Prison, Prison Sex, Riding, Smut, Top Hannibal, Top Hannibal Lecter, Topping from the Bottom, Voyeurism, Will Loves Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorta_sirius_black/pseuds/sorta_sirius_black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Hello, Dr. Lecter." Will greeted softly, voice carrying just enough to be heard through the glass. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Will watched as he slowly stood up, pulling himself from the bed with just a bit of resistance in his bones. So gorgeous, open for him like that. Open, ready, vulnerable, willing. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Hello, Will."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal spent months putting the wedding together. Months of work, practically nonstop.

They'd been together, on the run, for three years. Living together, killing together, simply _being_ together. They had this domesticity their lives for the first time, a domesticity that Will didn't know well. Not in the way he would've liked. He had it with Molly, once upon a time. But it was plagued with nightmares and a longing for something, a longing for the half of his soul that he was missing. But now... Now he had that. They lived together in this domestic bliss for 2 years, 6 months, and 12 days and they of his life. He found someone who he didn't feel painfully awkward around, found someone who made him feel almost normal, found someone who didn't make him feel like a freak of nature, found someone who he could understand without thinking about it, found someone who understood him in a way no one else had. He found someone whose lips fit well with his, found someone whose body tangled just perfectly ever so naturally when they were together, found someone who felt perfect inside of him, someone he loved to be inside of... He found Hannibal. He found the other part of his soul.

To him, they had been married for years. Ever since they killed the Dragon, since they became Dragon Slayers, heroes of their own stories and the villains of everyone else's. Will had been married to him since they consummated their love by means of murder. So maybe that was why he proposed. He wanted it to be official. He just wanted to put the husbands in that damned name that Freddie Lounds had given them so many years ago. Murder husbands.

When he went fishing, Will always went alone, savoring the quiet, though he almost always missed Hannibal. He always missed the comfortable way that his arms would slink around his waist, missed the way that his lips would press against the side of his neck and leave a small trail up to his ear before he'd bite softly down on it, breathe into his ears. Hannibal had asked to go fishing before, asked for him to take him out, asked Will to teach him. Will had always responded with a "maybe someday." He had been a teacher once, but he was never really good at teaching. He could talk about it, explain it, but when it came to actually teaching, instructing slowly, he always ended up getting frustrated because they weren't keeping up, and it was irritating. He didn't want to snap at Hannibal, so he always said "maybe someday."

And the day that Will proposed had been that someday. It was warm, one of the first warm days of the year. He took his lover to the lake near the cabin that they had made their home, secluded and lonely, completely off the map. Hannibal, despite his marked preference for the more refined things in life, was surprisingly content. He seemed to like the outdoors, or perhaps tolerated it well because of Will. They made their way down, accompanied by all nine of their dogs. Occasionally one would come up with a stick and, more often than not, Hannibal would be the one to throw it. He might deny it, but Will knew Hannibal cared for their dogs and that made Will even happier.

They had spent the afternoon fishing, had somehow found themselves stripping to their underwear and splashing about in the cool, clear water. Hannibal had dragged Will under once and kissed him, and that was when Will was absolutely certain that he wanted to spend his life with Hannibal. As dark as they were, as much as they hurt people, as much damage as they inflicted on the world, as much pain as they had inflicted upon each other, they had somehow managed to revive a childlike innocence sometimes. It occasionally appeared, bringing them to better times when they could smile and laugh without the darkness that had been ingrained in their souls for such a long time.

They were still in the water when Will made his decision. The sun was setting and Will was getting cold, and he knew that he needed to do it soon if he was going to do it at all. He knelt down in the water, both of them mostly naked, save for their underpants. Hannibal was practically glowing in the light of the setting sun, looking so beautiful that it nearly drove him mad...

Will asked.

Hannibal stared in shock for a long time. Such a long time that Will started to worry that he had broken him.

Then Hannibal knelt down and kissed him so hard that they nearly fell into the water again. They found themselves laughing again. Hannibal hoisted him into his arms and practically ran back to the cabin, dogs following behind, disregarding their clothes. No one was there to care anyways. He practically sprinted, suddenly carrying Will, the two of them kissing sporadically, tripping over each other, suddenly far too horny to keep their hands off of each other, both of them wanting each other, wanting... Something. He threw Will onto the bed, and it wasn't until they were both fully undressed that he finally slowed down a little bit, putting the fire on and taking his time for the rest of the night. Normally, they were fast and rough and hard and just a bit insane. But on that night, they decided to trade in their too-horny, too-fast, too-rough fucking for slow, soft love-making, something they rarely did. It had been beautiful, really. Switching, trading places, but always facing each other. Hannibal had made a point to make it so that they both came as many times as humanly possible that night, rather than coming and then passing out until morning like they typically did. Oh, it had been beautiful.

After that, he spent months making sure everything would be perfect.

He started with the venue. Of course, that had to be perfect.

He had decided on a cathedral. He booked a whole fucking cathedral, even though no one was going to be there but them. It was just the two of them, and the priest (who they'd undoubtedly have to kill afterwards, but what lovelier a way to consummate the marriage in the same way that they consummated the relationship to begin with: with murder, and bloodshed), and then the dogs. The dogs had to be there. Will insisted on it. The cathedral was... Beautiful, to say the least. Magnificent. It felt more like a work of art than a real, tangible thing. Despite its beauty and elegance, its numbers were dwindling, which made booking it feel safer. Apparently, someone murdered the pedophile priest a few weeks before Hannibal had officially booked it. The killer was never caught, but judging by the way that most of his organs were removed and his dick was shoved in his own mouth, and the fact that Hannibal hummed when he cooked for weeks after that, Will had his suspicions.

After that, Hannibal had spent a rather ridiculous amount of time decorating the cathedral just right. Services had stopped for the most part, considering there was no one to deliver God's divine word, and they had the place mostly to themselves. Most of their time was spent working on the wedding, working to make it all come together, but Will couldn't say that they hadn't done some horribly ungodly things on the altar when Will actually came with his fiancee to help. (Because of this, Hannibal usually just had him stay home. He couldn't get work done if they were fucking on the altar, and while he wasn't a religious man, he felt sacrilegious when they did that, and that led to some amount of guilt. Of all the things to feel guilty over.) He did it all on his own, deciding that hiring people to help would be far too risky, considering that they were still wanted worldwide. It didn't matter where they went, they were bound to be recognized. So Hannibal took to decorating and working all on his own, refusing help from Will most of the time. Most of what was done could be done in a few days, no need for drastic changes to their temple. However, it did take a long-ass time for him to get the music down. Since he couldn't hire the symphony he wanted, he composed a piece, played it on a plethora of different instruments a plethora of different times, and found a way to mix it together. A one-man symphony. And it was a piece that he had written himself, nonetheless. Everything turned out to be unarguably beautiful.

Then there was the catering. That was where the real problem came in. He wouldn't hire anyone, refused to, not because of the risk but because they would never be able to get it just right. And he couldn't just make it the night before and reheat it. They eventually came to the conclusion that they would just make the food together, after the wedding was over. They'd kill the minister together, and they'd cook him together. He'd gotten over any reluctance he had left to eating people a long time ago, so it wasn't exactly a problem to Will. Besides, when Hannibal would let him, he loved cooking together. He liked to watch him in the kitchen, liked to see how he just melted into his work, how relaxed he was when he was cooking. He moved skillfully, gracefully, powerfully. Sometimes Hannibal let Will cut the meat, though it was a rare occasion, and he would come behind him to guide his hands. Sometimes Will would sneak behind Hannibal whenever he was cooking and wrap his arms around the older man's waist. Will couldn't think of a better activity just after their marriage.

Well, perhaps maybe one better...

Hannibal went and bought new tuxedos, but not without dragging Will along with him. It was quite possibly the longest day of his life, but part of it was worth it. He hated shopping for clothes, especially when he was under the delusion that all tuxes were the same, which they, in fact, were not. At all. Hannibal got into more than one argument over things that Will didn't even care to understand with the store clerk. However, he couldn't say that it wasn't worth it. When Hannibal finally found the perfect ones, the look on his face, the gleam in his eyes... It made all the boredom and sitting and waiting and frustration worth it. Seeing him in it, seeing him try everything on... Well, it made Will want to tear it all right back off of him again.

And then the day came, and it was almost all that Will could hope for.

Oh, it came so very close.

They said their vows, vows that they had written themselves, vows that made them both burst into tears despite how badly they wanted to bottle it up, to stay strong, because that was all that they had grown to know. They had learned to hide their feelings, their pain. But right then, hands wrapped around each others', confessing the things so rarely spoken aloud, putting the feelings in the air between them into words... It drove them both to tears, and it was okay. Hannibal had pulled him in for a kiss, a kiss so passionate that it almost made him fall apart right then and there. But before they could even pull apart, before their lips even separated...

The door was broken down, and in strolled Jack Crawford.

 

-x-

 

Not. Guilty.

Not. Fucking. Guilty.

Hannibal had been found guilty of all charges, of course. Sentenced to life in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Of fucking course. They would never let him walk free. How could they? He was a cannibal, of course. A cannibal. A ruthless killer without regard for life. How in the hell could they just let him walk free? They couldn't. They wouldn't. They would never let him out into the real world. Those five doors between him and the outside... They were five doors he would never pass through again. He was going to stay there forever. Until the day that he died, he would be trapped behind those bars.

But Alana fucking Bloom couldn't just let Will rot in there with him.

No. Alana fucking Bloom, still believing he had some ounce of good in him. Alana fucking Bloom, still believing that he was just under a spell, that he would reemerge the same as he once was, before all of this hell had happened to him. Before Hannibal had gotten into his head and into his bones. But Will wasn't going to reemerge the same Will Graham he had been so long ago. Nor did he want to. He didn't want to walk away, walk out of this without changing. He didn't want to change. This was who he was now.

This was who he had always been. Deep down inside, in the core of his being, in his primal state... This was who he always was. A murderer.

A killer.

A beast.

_A dragonslayer._

It was all that he wanted to be.

But Alana Bloom somehow managed to keep him out of prison by claims of Stockholm Syndrome. But that wasn't what this was... Not at all. He wasn't in love with his captor. He had gone with Hannibal willingly. Hannibal had given him the chance to leave, offered it even. But he chose to stay because he didn't want to live without him. He wanted Hannibal, and Hannibal wanted him... But now...

"Will?"

His eyes tore from the window, tore from the dark gray skies that he had grown so used to, so... Fond of. He felt anger swelling in him at the familiar voice. It had been 4 weeks since they had been captured and taken back. Will had been kept in the psych ward of a hospital for 3 of those weeks, only having recently been released under the oath that he would make weekly visits to see Mrs. Bloom-Verger, his new psychiatrist. Because evidently, objectivity wasn't what he needed anymore. Or no one cared about objectivity anymore. They just wanted to change him, wipe away all that he had done and paint him in innocence again. But there was no going back after that. Never again would he be the Will Graham that he had once been. No...

He was part of Hannibal Lecter, and Hannibal Lecter was part of him. There was no going back, and there was no changing it now.

He turned toward her, looking as young and beautiful as she always did. Years of stress didn't seem to affect her much. She was still the beautiful woman that he had gotten so attached to so long ago. The beautiful woman that he thought he had loved. But what he felt for her had never been love... Lust, infatuation, a crush maybe. A simple liking. But he didn't love her. He had never loved her. He loved Hannibal Lecter. He loved that man like he loved no other. He loved Hannibal like he loved his own soul, and saw him as such. But Alana... Now, when he looked at her, he couldn't see anything but the burning rage of his own resentment. The woman who had torn him away from the man that he loved so desperately much.

"Hello Alana." He said in a hushed voice much like Hannibal's almost hearing him in his own tone of voice. Soft, but threatening and dark at the same time. A voice that could send chills down the spines of anyone.

"How are you doing today?" She inquired, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Lonely. I miss my husband. I miss sleeping next to him, I miss waking up to him, I miss the way that he feels inside of me. I miss cooking with him, reading next to him. I miss his fingers running through my hair, and the way that his mouth feels against mine. I miss my husband. But you know whose fault that is. You took him away from me. My husband. _My husband._ " He bit back, trying to manipulate, trying to make her feel sympathy for him.

She just looked. Stared. Didn't say a word.

"We didn't even get to consummate the marriage." He muttered.

"He was a murderer, Will. He killed people. He had to be locked away. You know this. We've gone over this. You and I both know that Hannibal was not going to stop. He was a murderer. Bloodthirsty. Literally. He drinks blood like wine, eats human flesh like its no more than pork. He regards human life like that of swine. He's a murderer."

"So am I. A murderer. A killer. Cannibal by proxy... No, you're the cannibal by proxy. Maybe I've acquired a taste for it. Maybe I'm as thirsty for blood as he is." He crossed his legs and looked her dead in the eye, something he hated doing but was willing to do for the intimidation tactic. "And yet here I am."

"Will, you... You have Stockholm Syndrome. You fell in love with your captor. You're a victim, not a criminal. Not a murderer, not really. You're... You're sick. Let me help you."

"Did you fall in love with your captor, Alana? Because Margot is pretty far from innocent as well. Killed her own brother. I fail to see how that is _innocent._ But how, exactly, is your monster any different than mine? She turned you into a killer. I know you helped her. Is that just a byproduct of Stockholm Syndrome? Are you truly going to blame every shameful action on Stockholm Syndrome? Because I fell in love with this captor before he took me."

Alana fell silent for a moment, turning away.

Will leaned forward onto his knees, drawing himself closer to her, small smirk on his lips. At his ability to intimidate, to pluck just the right strings, to make her squirm beneath him. To make her hurt, to make her bleed. It was a newly found liking of his. Plucking just the right chords to make his words feel like a dagger with a jagged edge. It was a type of sadism that he had developed, a liking for pain of another, whether it be emotional or physical. Bloodlust was in him, of course, but the bleeding of the heart at his words... It was something just as satisfying.

"I fell in love with him from the day that I met him. Is it truly Stockholm Syndrome?" He hissed.

"Will, you are not helping your case. I got you out on an insanity plead. Because I believe there's still good inside you somewhere."

"That good you saw was a masquerade, Alana. Because it was what was expected of me. Because it was what was in the people I surrounded myself with. Because I was a mirror, Alana. A mirror. A chameleon. Whatever I was needed to be."

"That's what Hannibal did to you, Will. Can't you see that?"

"No, no, no. Hannibal didn't want me to be his mirror like everyone else. No, no, no. Hannibal... He... He wanted me. _Me._ Not someone else, not some pretty reflection, some pretty picture. He wanted me. And me was what he got. He dug me out. Shattered the mirrors surrounding me. A hard process, but it was what he did. Shattered the mirrors and grasped my hand. I became his and he became mine. And for the first time, I was raw. Completely and utterly raw, Alana."

Alana stayed silent, like she didn't know what to say to him, like she couldn't think of the words. Understandably. She was bright, but never understood him like Hannibal understood him. Her understanding of him was in the reflections she saw. Even as the mirror shattered, cracked and broken, it was all that she saw. It was not until the night that they became dragonslayers that the mirrors truly shattered, dissipated into nothing but dust. She hadn't really seen him since then. It made sense that she would be left speechless. That power that he had over her brought him a sense of pride. Joy, even. The dark kind of joy that he always got when he was made to feel powerful. It was the kind of joy that Hannibal gave him.

"We thought about killing you. You and Margot. Perhaps even your child, though I don't think Hannibal kills children. I'm not opposed. All of you deserves to be eliminated. Every trace of DNA left of you. Distant relatives, every trace of you. I did not care about killing you at first. It didn't matter to me. I was happy just being with Hannibal. Our happy little family. Me. Him. The dogs. But now... Now... I would gladly. Destroy you. Burn your bones. Burn the ashes. Every trace of you, destroyed. I could. I would. Nothing would bring me more joy that pulling you apart because you pulled me apart from my husband. Maybe I should pull you apart from your wife. Make her feel the pain I feel. Kill you. Destroy you. For this. For what you did to me. You'd deserve it. You killed what I had. Something so beautiful. You strangled it and took my husband away from me. Took him out of our bed, from our home. Away from the dogs. God, do you know what that did to the dogs? They love him, Alana. You destroyed my family. So now... Well."

Her face was distorted in shock and terror at his words.

He felt powerful.

"I think that I would drag it out. Make it as painful as possible so you could feel a fraction of the pain that I feel now because you took him away from me. My husband away from me. I cannot survive separation from him. We were conjoined, Dr. Bloom. Conjoined at the soul. He is the beating of my heart and I of his. Do you know what it's like to live without a heart?" 

He leaned forward, scooting to the edge of his seat. He could smell the fear rolling off of her, hands clutching at the arms of her chair, terrified. Good. He had her right where he wanted her. Beneath him. Squirming and terrified. Ready to burst. 

"I would show you. I would carve your heart out while it was still beating. I would rip it from your chest and for just a moment, before the synapses in your brain ceased to fire, you will see your beating heart in my hand. And you will feel the pain I feel without him by my side... Because you could've killed me quickly. You could've taken my freedom away from me and leave me to rot. But you expect me to live without a heart as if nothing is wrong." 

He pulled himself down to his knees in front of her. Her head was turned away and tears were flowing freely now, streaking down her face, making a fool of herself. He wrapped a strong hand roughly around the sides of her face and pulled her head toward him, snapping her neck quickly so that she was making hard eye contact with him. 

"In the moment before the life leaves your body and you see your heart in my hand, you should consider yourself lucky that you only feel the pain for a moment. Because you have forced me to live with it for a lifetime."

She bolted up, shoving away from him, looking absolutely mortified, chest heaving. He knew what she was thinking. She was wondering where the Will she had known so many years ago had gone. She was wondering how he had become this. She was wondering how the hell it had come to this. Will just smiled, letting out a demented laugh as he turned back to his seat, sliding onto the smooth leather and crossing his legs, leaning back with a smirk on his face, not unlike that arrogant smile that Hannibal had a tendency to flash from time to time. 

"I won't do that though. Because I would much rather watch you squirm in fear. Waiting for me to snap. I can play you like a fiddle, Alana. Watching you squirm. Afraid. Unable to do anything because you set me free. You're the one who let me walk. Because hey..." He leaned back and let his shoulders shrug just a hint too dramatically. "What are you going to do? I'm insane, aren't I?" 

Her body quivering, she grabbed her bag, shoving a hand into the front pocket and throwing it onto the table in front of him. 

"You're a fucking monster. You can have your fucking conjugal visits. Just stay the hell away from my family." 

She bolted out. 

Will laughed. 

 

-x-

 

A familiar smell hung heavy in the air as he inhaled, stepping inside. Smelled like sweat and cum and hot, heavy breath. Berserk prisoners screamed and shouted at him, pouring and ringing through his ears, triggering such horrible memories in his mind of his time here. But the memories couldn't deter him, couldn't stop the smile on his face. He walked past the rowdy prisoners without a word, hardly even acknowledging them. He didn't care about them. There was one prisoner here that he gave a damn about, and that was Dr. Hannibal Lecter. His husband. 

He lay in his bed behind a damn near impenetrable glass wall. He was naked, white prison suit folded neatly at the edge of his bed. Creaky, rickety old thing. Would be making a loud of noise. In the bed lay his Hannibal, hand wrapped around his fully-hard cock and jerking himself off slowly, eyes closed peacefully, breathing hitching every couple of seconds. He didn't seem to notice him at first, but then he inhaled again and melted more into himself, sighing in. He smelled him. Will's cock twitched in sympathy, already painfully hard. Had been since he left his house. 

"Hello, Dr. Lecter." Will greeted softly, voice carrying just enough to be heard through the glass. 

Will watched as he slowly stood up, pulling himself from the bed with just a bit of resistance in his bones. So gorgeous, open for him like that. Open, ready, vulnerable, willing. 

"Hello, Will."


	2. Chapter 2

Will had one thing on his mind. Sex.

Of course, there were other things that he wanted from this visit. Cuddling, talking about how life had been without the other, wanted to tell Hannibal how much that he had missed him. About how he would find a way to break him out someday, and they would be able to be freed of these infernal cages. Part of him just wanted to hold tightly to the man that he loved so much, bury his face in the crook of his neck and smell him again, the way that he always smelled, catch that scent that grew a little bit fainter with each passing day. That got a little bit harder to remember with each passing day.

But first and foremost, Will wanted sex. 

"Those assholes took the lube from me. I think they just wanted to do what they could to make this as inconvenient as possible. As if it isn't hard enough already. Being here, those fucking voyeurs watching us.” Will grumbled as he stepped inside, stepping closer to the man that he had loved for so long. His husband. He was pissed. This wasn’t how he had imagined it, not at all. He had wanted it to be in their bed at home, lights low, candles burning, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Slow and tender, set to their favorite songs over the crackling speaker of their record player. 

Instead, it was in a cage, being watched like they were monkeys in a zoo. There was no music, no candlelight, no roaring fire. They couldn’t even be in their own bed, rather confined to a creaky twin-sized bed with a metal frame that looked like it might fall apart at any second. There was no such thing as dignity here. 

“Probably jerking themselves off while we do this. Want to make it as unsophisticated and filthy as possible. Treating us like animals." Will muttered, stepping into the cell, closer to his husband. He knew that he should be grateful for what they had, should be grateful that he got to consummate their marriage at all, given that this was a hard won privilege on its own, but he couldn’t help but feel robbed of what they could have had, what they should have had together, before Jack Crawford and his goons came and shut it all down. 

Hannibal was standing as poised as he always was, hands held behind his back. Always poised, always looking strong and in control of the situation, even when he was standing completely bare in the middle of the room. Will licked his lips at the sight; he looked fucking delectable, leaving Will's cock twitching, painfully hard. His mouth was practically watering with the lust, wanting nothing more than to taste every inch of his skin. It had been so long since he’d seen him, so long since he’d seen him like _this…_ He had missed it so much. 

Hannibal’s eyes trained on Will, admiring the way that he looked, even beneath all of those clothes. He would be out of them soon enough, and then they could get to what they had been waiting for for so long now. His blue eyes were bright in the fluorescent lighting, sparkling beneath him. He was as beautiful as the day he’d met him, if a bit more tired now, a bit more broken. But beautiful nonetheless. And his.

“They don’t treat kindly to prisoners. We’re little more than dogs to them, darling. You and I are just animals.” Hannibal confessed as Will stepped forward. “Animals, really. They treat us like animals in a cage. Here for their amusement. I would imagine that this is what the monkeys feel like, locked in their cages in the zoo.”

Will took a cautious step toward him, those gorgeous blue eyes scanning the room. Four cameras, watching them from every angle. Hannibal had gotten used to the feeling of being constantly watched, constantly ogled at. Hannibal the Cannibal, the man who had escaped police custody for two years to be with his lover. Hannibal the Cannibal, the man whose wedding had been crashed just after vows had been made. Hannibal the Cannibal, Hannibal the Cannibal. 

They always watched, and now was no different. Now they had a spectacle, now they had something to see beyond the doctor reading, or drawing, or even masturbating. Because that was all that he had to do around here. But no, now they had a show. The Cannibal’s lover had come by for a conjugal visit. And now they got to watch them fuck. What a spectacle, what a scene, may as well be in the carnival’s freakshow. 

_Might as well give them a show._

Will sighed, turning to Hannibal and fully beholding him for the first time since their wedding. Not a speck of clothing on him, just as Will liked him. As much as Will enjoyed tearing his clothes from his body, he figured that Hannibal hadn’t wanted to see him in his prison garb. A plain white jumpsuit in place of his suits and ties was not the way that Hannibal Lecter wanted to be remembered. No, rather in full view, completely nude, cock rock solid and straining, wet at the tip. Will preferred this view, too. 

“I missed you, Dr. Hannibal Graham-Lecter.” Will whispered, offering a small, weak smile as he inched forward, blue eyes locking with Hannibal’s dark ones. 

“And I you, Mr. William Graham-Lecter.” He replied quietly, eyes beginning to grow wet as tears threatened to spill over. Oh, how many times he had whispered that name to himself in the middle of the night, reminding himself that yes, Will was real, and Will was his husband, even from behind prison bars. 

Will took a step toward his husband and wrapped a hand around the side of his neck, pulling him close and pressing a kiss against his lips, those sweet, familiar lips that he had grown to love so much over the years. Full and warm and sweet, fitting perfectly against his own. Hannibal's erection, long and thick and rock hard, pressed up against his own. Only one layer of clothing between them. His limbs trembled at the thought, at the touch of his lover. He had waited for what felt forever for the this moment.

One of the doctor’s steady hands locked around Will’s hip, holding him close, while the other slipped down between them, palming at the younger man’s growing erection from beneath his jeans. What he wouldn’t do to be sheathed inside of his lover, his husband, feel him all around him, body tight and unyielding as their bodies moved together in this perfect harmony, creating something more beautiful than anything that could be made with fire and destruction.

"They can keep their fucking lube." Will whispered, pulling away from his lips slightly, forehead pressed against Hannibal's. Will took the hand that was resting on his waist and guided it behind him, eyes meeting Hannibal’s with a devious glint in his eyes. He lead his lover's warm hand down, dipping beneath his waistband, showing him what he had done. Hannibal's eyes closed and he let out a small sound, something between a sigh and a moan, as he felt at what Will had done to surprise him. His fingers were met with damp warmth and the flat end of a plug. Will had come prepared for this. Will had come prepared for him. 

"I'm ready." Will whispered with a crooked smile. “If they’re gonna treat us like animals, let’s fuck like animals.” 

Hannibal didn’t dare wait another moment, pulling his fingers from Will’s jeans and pulling him tight into his chest, claiming his lips again. He had waited long enough for this. He needed to be inside of him, and he needed it _now._

Hannibal was rough with him, pulling his jacket off of his shoulders in one rough movement before tossing it aside and moving to his shirt, struggling with the buttons. Will smiled against the older man’s lips and helped him, tearing off his own clothes, absently hoping that they would wind up torn and wrinkled so that when he walked home, everyone would know exactly what he had been doing. Everyone would know exactly who had been inside of him, who he belonged to. 

“Bed.” Hannibal growled against the younger man’s lips, grabbing him roughly and pulling him against his body, hands working at the button of his jeans, struggling to free his straining length. Hannibal had waited for him, already ready, not wanting Will to see him in that hideous suit that they had left him to rot in, taking away all his dignity. However, it made things a bit less fun in terms of tearing their clothes off of each other, left no room for imagination, no room for anticipation. But with Will, feeling the fullness in his jeans, the straining of his cock, seeing the damp place blooming over the front of his boxers… 

Hannibal pushed him to the bed before finally tugging his jeans off of him, pulling them down his thighs and tossing them aside. He needed this, needed every inch of him. Will’s straining cock pressed against his belly as the older man took him in hand, curling a hand around his length. Hannibal had dreamt of this moment every night since being locked in this cage, had gone back to moments like these, struggling to bring the feeling of Will’s body back to his fingertips. But memories, rooms in the palace of his mind, they didn’t even begin to compare to the reality. 

Will let out a moan as Hannibal’s fist pumped around his cock. His hands were always skilled, purposeful, knowing exactly where to touch to make Will squirm, always knowing just how to make him scream. Will hadn’t been able to replicate it, hadn’t been able to mimic the feeling of Hannibal’s hand wrapped around his cock, hadn’t even been able to come close. He moaned loudly, bucking into his touch, needing more, needing more of him.

Hannibal’s hand continued to stroke the younger man as his free hand slowly drifted downward, grazing over his balls before settling at his hole. He circled his stretched rim with one finger for a moment, feeling the base end of the plug and immediately growing jealous. No one, not even a piece of plastic, was allowed to touch him there. This part of Will, the most private part of his body, the one place where no one else had ever touched him… That belonged to Hannibal.

Hannibal curled his fingers around the base end of the plug and slowly tugged it out, careful not to hurt his Will. It was a simple black plug, nothing fancy or even particularly pleasurable, but Hannibal still wanted it out of him as quickly as possible. As long as that thing was inside of Will’s body, it meant that Hannibal wasn’t. He tossed it aside, not caring where it went, too preoccupied with being sheathed inside of Will’s body, too desperate to feel his body moving and twitching and contracting around him… He needed Will’s body, needed it now, needed to consummate their marriage. It had been far too long.

Will claimed Hannibal’s lips again, pulling him close, threading his fingers through his silvery hair as he wrapped his legs around his waist, feeling his cock pressed against him, though not quite yet sheathed inside of him. He needed him to be, needed to be full to bursting with his cock. This was what this was right now. It was about desperation and need and lust and animalistic instinct. Animals kept in separate cages for too damn long, ready for this very moment.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Will pulled Hannibal down and rolled on top of him, straddling his waist as he leaned closer, cock rubbing up against the older man’s stomach. Hannibal’s fingers were digging into his hips, leaving bruises there that he’s be able to admire for weeks to come. Little things to remember him by, little markings that only Will could see, little reminders to tell him exactly who he belonged to, and who belonged to him.

Will reached down between his legs, fingers curling around his swollen length, thick and heavy and pulsing in his hand. He let out a quiet sigh, a smile teasing at his lips. It had been a long time since he had done this, and he missed it. Lord, he fucking missed it. Slowly, Will scooted back, lining himself up so that his cockhead pressed against the fluttering ring of muscle. 

Will slowly began to press down onto his length, savoring the stretch and burn, hissing as he inched down, cockhead popping past his sphincter. The lube had partially dried, and Will hadn’t taken anything as big as Hannibal in months, but the face that Hannibal was making beneath him, utterly debauched and in awe, made it worth it. He slowly sunk down, taking him in full until he settled at the hilt, feeling the warm, throbbing, twitch of Hannibal’s cock inside of him. It took him a moment to adjust to the feeling. He felt so full that he feared he might burst, but it was a comforting fullness, one that he had grown familiar with, one that felt more like a missing piece had been restored than something that had been shoved somewhere where it didn’t belong.

Hannibal’s hands ghosted over his body, gingerly touching every crease and fold and curve of him, memorizing him, not knowing how long it would be until he saw him like this again. The pressure, the heat, the tight squeezing around his cock was mindblowing, better than he remembered, though perhaps that was because of how long they had spent apart. 

“Love you, _mylimasis._ I love you so much.” Hannibal moaned as Will slowly began to raise himself back up before slamming back down, beginning to move, beginning to set pace. His head was spinning and his heart was pounding as he watched his lover bounce on his cock, so close and yet so far away, his mind somewhere else entirely. Will’s eyes closed and brows knitted in concentration, like he was searching for that one perfect angle that he’d memorized so long ago, though he supposed that perhaps the boy’s memories were fading. Maybe he would begin what it smelled like when he woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting in from the other room. Maybe his memories would blur and he wouldn’t be able to remember what it felt like to fall asleep together, TV playing softly as they lay in a naked heap of tangled limbs and cum and sweat… “Oh, I missed you, I love you so much.” Hannibal whimpered at the thought of forgetting.

“Shut up.” Will demanded. He wouldn’t get emotional right now, not with the guards all watching, not with all eyes on them. He wasn’t about to dare let anyone see them share their most intimate moments. They were intimate, meant to stay just between them, quiet words of love and adoration and praise and worship. That was theirs, and no one else got to see. This was not how he’d dreamt of consummating their marriage, had pictured it more soft, tender, loving, but for now, rough fucking for the whole world to gawk at was good enough for him. He’d not so much as touched himself since Hannibal’s arrest. He was horny, and desperate, and ached for his husband’s cock. That was all. 

Will dropped back down hard onto Hannibal’s cock, leaning back slightly as he did so, his cock slamming pointedly against his prostate. He let out a sharp cry, head thrown back in ecstasy as the shocks of pleasure bolted up his spine, spreading through every inch of him, toes curling tightly as he leaned down to claim his husband’s mouth again, rocking down against him. 

_“Fuck,_ Hannibal… Missed your cock inside of me. You’re so big… Nothing else even comes close.” Will moaned, just loud enough to be heard over the speakers, letting them hear him. “Your big cock, stretching me wide, fucking me hard… Missed this so bad. Wanna feel you inside of me all the time. Want you to fuck me over and over…”

The younger man let out an exaggerated moan, putting on a show as he raised himself back up, grinding down on the older man’s cock. In all actuality, Will rarely enjoyed sex with anyone who he didn’t love with all of his soul, had only truly found enjoyment in it with Hannibal, but now, he was having some fun acting like just another common whore, moaning and crying out and talking dirty like a goddamn pornstar. And if they were gonna be watched, maybe that was exactly what he was. Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s dirty little whore.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Will reached down and took Hannibal’s hand in his own, guiding it to his cock. The doctor knew exactly how he liked to be touched, knew just how to make him squirm, thumb massaging lightly around the glans, smearing pre-cum down his shaft. Will let out a moan, rocking down hard on his cock and thrusting into his hand, blue eyes squeezing shut as his balls drew up close. Close, so close, so damned close… 

Hannibal have his cock another tug and that was all that it took for Will to reach his climax, thick white semen sputtering between them, coating Hannibal’s chest. The older man vowed that he wouldn’t be showering for awhile, wanting the scent to linger, wanting to be able to smell his husband all over him, not wanting to lose what he had left of him. 

The tight contractions of Will’s body around him was what drew Hannibal’s own orgasm from him, emptying himself deep inside of his husband’s tight hole. Will let out a loud cry at the feeling, the familiar gush of warmth spreading through him. He began to come down again as Hannibal lay mid-orgasm beneath him, and the very sight of him could have gotten him hard again. 

Slowly, as Hannibal’s cock softened, he pulled himself off of the older man, his hole puffy and red and abused. Will figured that he’d not be able to sit straight for a few days at least, each step, each movement a reminder of this. God, he hoped that he wouldn’t have to wait long until he could feel it again. 

He lowered himself onto Hannibal, cum hot and sticky between them as he pressed his face into his hairy chest, listening to the rhythmic thrumming of his heartbeat. 

“I love you.” Will murmured. 

Hannibal gave him a sleepy, contented smile.

“I love you too.” 

 

-x-

 

Their date had to come to end, but Will vowed to himself that this would not be the end. This would not be their last. Once they were dressed, Will turned to him one last time before leaving. 

“Goodbye, Dr. Lecter.” 

He held out a hand for him, and Hannibal took it, pulling away to hold the thin piece of metal in his hand, just big enough to pick a lock, slim enough to hide between his fingers. 

“See you on the other side.”


End file.
